Circle of Pain
by selene2selene
Summary: Set in Early Season 5 in Angel. Some things are better off undiscovered.


lj-cut text="Circle of Pain"

Wesley poured over the company manifest of objects of power and made the happy discovery of the last orb of Thesula. The other known orbs having been accounted for in his books with two having actually been used on Angel himself... The buzz of the intercom distracted him and Harmony's voice filled the room.

"Ummm. Wesley... Mr. Pryce... Wyndham-Pryce, there is a man to see you at the front desk. He refuses to step any further into the building and keeps running away from security. All they can get from him is that he's here to see you."

Wesley sighed. "Thank you Harmony, I will be down shortly."

"Well can you tell your friends to not spaz out? 'Cause you have your phone on DND and I AM NOT your secretary! Don't I have enough to do without having to field your phone calls Mr I-Am-Too-Good-For-One-Last-Name!?"

The sigh was longer and more heartfelt this time... "I am sure that you are quite busy Harmony. I'll be sure to take my phone off Do Not Disturb. I do appreciate your timely intervention in this matter."

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Harmony found her indignation suddenly deflated by his warm manner and simple gratitude. "Oh. That's okay. I guess."

He pressed the intercom button effectively ending the conversation. The person in the lobby had to be Rothwell and that meant he had finally acquired the 'Sesevern Book of Purification'. If the last tome he had consulted was correct, it would contain a wealth of information on both meditation and the reunification of souls. He pushed back from his desk, making sure that he had his money clip. This was going to require quite a bit of cash. Hopefully the idiots that passed as security hadn't tried anything stupid on the man... i'This day couldn't be any worse.'/i

center~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/center

He knocked on the door hoping to catch Wes before the meeting with the Fyarl Clan began. The door swung open and Angel realized that he must have missed him. He stepped into the room intending to scribble a note for Wesley, should he come back for anything, just to let him know NOT to address the Head of Clan by H'tol'H'tokith. There had been a slight altercation between the Head of Clan and his second in command and now one was missing a head...

As he went to grab a sheet of paper to jot down his note Angel caught a glimpse of Wesley's handwriting. The simple phrase that always sent a surge of pure rage through him. "The father will kill the son." How everything had been changed by those words.

The betrayal would always be there between them, whether Wesley was aware of it or not. He had trusted the other man with the most important thing in his "unlife" and in return the ex-watcher had torn his son from him in such a horrible fashion. There was no way to retrieve the years his infant son had spent growing up in Quor'toth—the bruised and emotionally battered shell that had come back was cold comfort. He would have kept his boy safe if it hadn't been for treachery from within.

He swept the notes to the side, looking at what had intrigued Wesley so much. Scanning through the text he finally realized what the ex-watcher was so interested in... The Orb of Thesula. i'Even with his memories wiped Wesley doesn't trust me one hundred percent - and that is without the knowledge of his betrayal, our falling out, and my death threat against him. Looks like our Wesley was preparing for the worst.'/i

He felt something shift inside of himself. i'Haven't I given up enough? Haven't I proved over and over that I am sorry for the things that I did as Angelus? Doesn't it mean anything that I fight every night beside him?'/i He felt a pain inside of him - a gut wrenching sensation as he realized that nothing he could ever do would be enough.

Old bitterness swept through him—and the fact that Wesley had no memory of what had happened only soothed him so far. In order to calm the fury rising within Angel found himself having to resort to the 'get out of jail free card' that Wesley had earned by rescuing him from the bottom of the ocean.

Wesley had been the only person that had cared enough, and had the brains enough to figure out the mystery surrounding his disappearance, he reminded himself. i'I never doubted Wesley's intentions when he stole Connor away from me—it was that alone that had held me back from killing him in that hospital bed. Well, that and the fact that he was so weak that it would have been over before I even got started,' /i he thought with a sneer.

He glanced through the notes quickly coming to the conclusion that Wesley was attempting to locate the orb using the innumerable contacts of Wolfram and Hart in addition to his own wealth of contacts in the arcane arts. Wolfram and Hart would make sure that the orb wouldn't be available to re-ensoul him... especially if they already had it in their clutches. i'The funny part of it is that as hard as Wesley looks for the orb it will become a quest for the Holy Grail if I don't help him.' The thought held some appeal either way he looked at it./i

He slid the papers over and looked at the folder underneath, it was thick and some of the documents were fragile from the passage of time. He sat down in Wesley's chair... it was obvious that he had stumbled upon Wesley's pet project. There was no way that he could have amassed this amount of material in the few short weeks since they had taken over the reigns here.

The parchment under his fingers crackled as he realized that this was another layer to Wesley's innate distrust of him. He'd thought that by fighting the good fight along side the Englishman he'd earned himself at least an iota of trust. It seemed as if Wesley was just waiting for him to stray off the path of redemption.

Then, he reasoned, there's the fact that Wes is always ready for every contingency - the thought of Wesley quietly gathering all the information pertaining to the orb on the nights that he wasn't out decapitating demons by his side made him want to laugh… or cry.

It wasn't the fact that he was researching the topic as much as the fact that it had been a carefully kept secret. i'Didn't Wes have any faith in me?'/i It was hard enough to face him every day and pretend that nothing had ever shattered their friendship - a friendship that was shown to be built upon a faulty foundation of so called trust and loyalty.

i'I am good enough to be the muscle but I'll never be good enough to be accepted and not feared.'/i

He continued reading and figured out what his friend had truly been researching. It wasn't enough for Wesley to obtain an orb, he had to know exactly how to create one. The thought both thrilled and terrified him as he read what the ritual entailed.

He heard a nervous cough from the door way and without looking up he knew that Wesley was standing there all leather and Burberry cologne.

He placed the manuscript down carefully and for a moment he simply took measure of the other man. He could feel the embarrassment and nervousness coming from him and decided then and there just how this would be played.

He continued to stare until it became extremely uncomfortable. Wesley cleared his throat again, "I see that you found my research." Just a statement - No apology and Angel felt himself close off.

"Is there any other research you would like to share with me, Wes?" The double entendre was lost on Wesley as he shook his head no slowly.

"I thought that it would be best to be ready for any contingency Angel. Surely you... understand. Nothing personal but this is an evil law firm and we have no idea what the Senior Partners have in store for us. I have been able to track down one of the orbs. It says on this manifest." He shuffled through the disorganized pile of papers. "Here. It appears to be in the Singapore Branch of Wolfram and Hart. I have placed a few calls, and according to the information I am being… given… that doesn't appear to be the case."

center~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/center

The orb was innocent looking enough; the fact was that the two of them had actively searched for the damn thing for months before Angel had been able to locate the last of the remaining Orbs of Thesula. He'd had to cut through a mountain of bureaucratic red tape before he had even been able to locate it. He'd been given the runaround from their satellite offices and it had taken personal late night visits to different company warehouses before he had finally obtained the orb.

Angel watched Wesley's eyes as he carelessly tossed the orb from hand to hand. Each toss going higher and higher until he was mere inches away from the ceiling. The mounting terror in Wesley's eye was enough for right now and he placed the sphere down on his desk none too gently. "Well looks like I have found my new paperweight."

"Are you sure that is a good idea Angel?"

He watched as the ex-watcher barely contained himself from reaching for the orb and taking it back to the case it from which it had been plucked. "I am sure that it will be just fine where it is. No one gets in or out of this office without my consent." His tone left no room for argument and he shuffled through the papers on his desk handing one over to Wesley for his opinion—effectively ending the conversation.

The rest of the meeting went by without a hitch.

center~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/center

A loud crash and a piercing wail from Angel's office preceded Harmony standing in the doorway nervously wringing her hands, "I was dusting like you asked... and the pledge... slipped..."

Angel glanced over at Wesley to gauge his reaction, watching with interest the slight tightening of his hand on his pencil and sudden harsh breathing before he exploded, "Angel! What was she doing in there? I told you that more care needed to be taken in handling such rare objects. Do you know what this means?"

Angel was certain he knew exactly what this would mean.

Phase two of his plan was complete.

center~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/center

Every step of the ritual was imbued with a purpose. The painting of the glyphs a show of intention. The lighting of the candles both a sign of protection and a cage to be kept in. The glyphs and candles formed a version of a sacred circle that would call forth a demon but bind it in such a way that no irreparable harm would befall the conjurer. The demon was free to wreak havoc upon the summoner and they became the principle vessels of the spell.

Angel watched Wesley painting the symbols upon the wall and lighting the candles to await his fate. The spell to had to be undertaken by the summoner's free will... the demon would be drawn into the spell by its own destructive nature.

The body had to be weakened so that the ultimate goal could be achieved.

center~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/center

Wesley peered, through barely cracked eyelids, at the room surrounding him. The white walls and tiles threw into high contrast the ring of black candles flickering at the perimeter of the room. Strange glyphs upon the walls glowed with a dull red light. The coarse feel of granite against his skin and the rasp of his harsh breathing were the only sound in the otherwise deathly silent room.

He rolled over with the every intention of jumping off the slab and getting out of the room as fast as possible. i'There is something horribly wrong here.' /i He felt his ankle give way with a loud snap– and went down screaming. His head caught the corner of the stone; blood immediately began to pour out of the wound half blinding him.

The last half hour came rushing back to him, fists pounding into him, followed by vicious kicks. Each blow inflicting massive amounts of pain as he made no move to intercept them. After a certain point his body gave him no choice, his mind retreating from the waves of pain, and on pure instinct he had curled up into a ball. Still the blows had fallen. Then—blackness.

i'What made me think that I could endure this and still control the situation?'/i Blazing pain pulsed through him in time with his heartbeat. i'I don't think I can take much more.'/i

The sound of heavy footfall came to him from the opposite side of the stone slab. Instinctively he made himself smaller attempting to wedge himself under the meager protection offered by the stone ledge.

i'I know that he'll find me. There is no place to hide.'/i Sweat and blood mingled as cold terror took over from rational thought.

The demon towered over him, the flickering candlelight revealing his rictus-like grin.

A low moan emanated from deep within his chest as he realized what the demon intended to do. A soft chuckle escaped Angel as he leaned over and took hold of Wesley's broken ankle dragging him out into the open once again. A few feeble thrashing movements was all that the ex-watcher could manage in his state. Little more than token resistance.

center~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/center

With each blow that fell he envisioned Connor's little green jersey that he had bought for the baby. The nursery and the hopes and dreams that it had stood for, and as it is now a charred, blackened out wasteland much like his dreams and hopes. Connor's life had no room for him in it now - no role at all.

center~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/center

Angel placed Wesley's body on the altar and placed the bowl of henna upon his stomach. This was the moment the two had strived for. Their eyes locked and Angel hoped for a second that Wesley wouldn't go through with it. The pleasure that he had taken from beating Wesley to the ground warred with the guilt that he felt at having practically made this moment the only possible outcome.

Wes lifted a trembling hand and placed it in the bowl with his palm dripping with the ochre liquid he placed his palm flat against his chest. His part of the ritual was done; he allowed his arm to fall the side, leaving his chest bare except for the mark. His eyes lost their wild look and something akin to acceptance settled in its place.

Angel felt himself flush once again with annoyance - only Wesley would accept a piece of his soul being torn out of him. Anger rolled through his veins but whether he was angry at Wesley or himself he couldn't tell.

He felt the binding spell's compulsion and his hand hovered for a moment before plunging into the mark.

Wesley strained against the stone every fibre of his being fought against this intrusion.

Angel could feel the resistance and gritted his teeth as he pressed down upon him. His hand buried itself in Wesley's flesh, and yet created no physical wound.

He felt it then, the tiniest of flutters against his fingertips - Wesley's soul. He slowly pulled back his fingers breaking some sort of membrane and a small fragment of something warm and light filled his palm. He looked down at Wesley's face and saw the agony etched there, he felt shame and regret overcome him. The quest for revenge tasted bitter and cold. Nothing had changed for him, Connor was still gone from his life and here he stood holding a portion of Wesley's essence in a futile attempt to enact revenge upon a man who wasn't even aware he had committed an offense.

He looked in wonder at the silvery swirling energy before the spell completed itself and the orb formed in his hand. The imperative to hand over the orb was incessant. Caving in to the spells demand Angel placed the Orb in Wesley's lax hand and watched in horror as Wesley curled in upon it seeking comfort from the missing part of himself.

Angel turned away unable to face the desolation on Wesley's face—a perfect mirror to his own.


End file.
